Millstone
by anoceannothingfloatson
Summary: An accident on a rescue causes tensions to rise in the Tracy household.


**A/N** \- My first fic in a long time! And my first for Thunderbirds in an age. I hope you enjoy. This is based more off TOS than any other format of Thunderbirds. The rating is for language and mature themes (no smut).

* * *

_This is a gift, it comes with a price_

_Who is the lamb and who is the knife?  
Midas is king and he holds me so tight  
And turns me to gold in the sunlight _

_Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up) - Florence + The Machine_

* * *

Scott's hands shook as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

The sun was in the process of rising and golden light illuminated his movements. It reminded him that another day was dawning for those who had been without hope a mere twelve hours ago. The thought wasn't enough, this time, to soothe his whirring brain and let him think about sleep.

Virgil would tell him he was punishing himself and that he should go get some rest but Virgil was in bed, sleeping.

Scott didn't deserve the relief of sleep.

Yesterday's mission had been a long one but not complicated. They had saved dozens of lives in the hours they had spent trawling through the remains of collapsed buildings. They hadn't been called until the last of the aftershocks had finished but they had all been suited and ready to go within minutes of the initial earthquake, John keeping them supplied with more information than the crews on the ground probably had. It hadn't been a difficult decision to make when the call from the authorities had eventually come through. It had been routine. Scott had coordinated their efforts on the ground while John helped organise emergency services in the affected areas while keeping base up to date and aiding Scott in keeping an eye on their brothers.

As the hours had passed and the rescue wound up, they had all been in high spirits. The number of lives they had saved had far outweighed those that they had lost. The emergency services and the volunteers from the local population had been more than happy to take direction from the Thunderbird operatives. Within hours scenes of chaos were replaced with order and a sense of relief.

Then, as they had begun packing away their equipment, Alan, who, rather ironically, had been checking the structural integrity of one of the last buildings which needed clearance for civilians to enter, fell through some damaged floorboards.

Scott's knuckles turned white as he gripped his coffee mug. The hot liquid spilling onto his shaking hands was not enough to distract him from the fear that had engulfed him when Alan's communicator had cut off mid-sentence and a terrifying rumble of brick against brick emanated from the building he knew his youngest brother was in.

He had no idea how he managed to keep his head as he gave orders to Virgil and Gordon, who had both been closer than he had been, to investigate. His heart had been pounding in his chest even while he forced himself to carry on working. He kept his feet planted when all he had wanted to do was run to where Alan had been and dig him out of the mess he had managed to get himself into.

He trusted Virgil and Gordon, though, and knew that they would do everything in their power to get Alan. They would call him if they needed him.

They hadn't, in the end. They had managed to dig a sheepish Alan out from the remains of broken floorboards and plaster without any setbacks. Virgil's voice had been laced with false exasperation when he reported Alan's only injury to be a broken right arm and Scott had been soothed to hear Alan's voice, high with pain, whining about something Gordon was doing in the background.

Still, it shouldn't have happened.

The whole thing - Alan shouldn't have gotten hurt, not on Scott's watch. They had become complacent, thinking about soft beds and warm showers when they should have been thinking about the task at hand.

Their father had been furious when they had gotten home and Scott had explained what had happened. Alan had been spared the worst of the tongue lashing, instead having to go get his arm set in the med bay, but Scott knew he had gotten his share.

It wasn't fair.

Scott had been the one to send him into the building alone, trusting Alan's judgement when perhaps he just wasn't ready for the responsibility that came with being an IR operative. There was more to being in International Rescue than just jumping in saving the day. It was hard, sometimes unrewarded, work that required periods of intense concentration and self-discipline. Alan had proved he wasn't ready.

Scott had been the on to convince their father that Alan was ready for active duty and he had been the one who had placed faith in Alan's abilities.

His father had been well within his right to be angry at him. Scott had put Alan in a situation he wasn't ready for and the kid could have gotten himself killed as a result.

Scott sighed and gulped down his coffee. He reached for the coffee pot without conscious thought and poured himself another mugful.

"Save some for the rest of us, Scooter." Gordon's voice cut through the quiet.

"Don't call me that." Scott said immediately, a smirk tugging at his lips at the disappointment on Gordon's face. His brother had been looking to startle him and Scott hadn't even flinched.

"One day I will," Gordon replied, solemnly, "but today is not that day."

Scott rolled his eyes before making an exaggerated show of checking his watch, "what are you doing up so early?"

Gordon shrugged as he opened the fridge. He pulled out the orange juice and took a long drink straight from the carton. Scott knew he should scold him but he didn't really care for orange juice and so kept his mouth shut.

"Alan's going to be fine." Scott said, thinking Gordon was upset about his younger brother getting hurt.

"Alan's an idiot."

Scott snorted but kept quiet. Virgil or John were the ones the brothers went to for an ear to listen but neither of them were here and Scott knew Gordon. He'd talk when he was ready.

Gordon returned the orange juice to the fridge and picked up a banana from the fruit basket. Peeling it, he said, "we're all going to be confined to the island now, aren't we? Virgil is going to be pissed."

"Not at much as John when we tell him he's stuck up there for another month. This will be the second month in a row covering for Alan."

"He'll have worked that out already. Besides, John doesn't get mad."

"Even John gets mad. Still, I'll need to tell him. Probably should have done it last night."

"Dad should make Alan do it."

"Do you really think Alan's going to care that he's missing a month up on the tin can?" Scott asked.

Gordon sighed and took a bite of his banana, "I guess not, not with Tin-Tin being home."

"He's barely going to be able to contain his glee."

"If Alan was smarter I'd have guessed he planned the whole thing."

"Alan _is_ smart." Scott reminded him. "He just doesn't always think."

"Then why doesn't Dad tell him? Why do you have to tell him? It's not fair on you."

"It's my job to keep you guys safe and I failed." Scott answered, simply.

"But it was Alan who got himself injured - not you!" Gordon's voice had increased in volume, frustration bleeding into every word. "Why do you have to get punished? It's not your fault he got cocky."

"It's not," Scott agreed, keeping his voice even. "But I should have read the situation better. We were all tired and we got complacent. That was the longest rescue we've been on since Alan joined. He's never been known for his concentration and he had been getting sloppier as the rescue had worn on- I should have made him wait for either you or Virge before sending him in to give the all clear on those last few buildings. You would have made him be careful."

"So you're saying that you should be punished for trusting Alan to take him job seriously?"

There was more to it than that but Gordon was thinking along the right lines, "pretty much."

"That's bullshit. Dad had no right to shout at you like he did. He can't expect to hold you responsible for our mistakes."

"You're not thinking of it in the right way."

Gordon scowled at him, "go on, enlighten me."

Scott smiled. It didn't matter how much a situation frustrated him or how set in his thought process he was, Gordon was always willing to listen to another point of view. It was a rare trait amongst the Tracys.

"You're thinking of us as brothers and a family rather than as a military unit."

"Military? Scott, your Airforce is showing."

"Well, not military but you know what I mean. Dad is the CO and I'm his man on the ground. He relies on my judgement on how you are all doing in the field- if I think you need more training or if you're particularly good at anything which may be useful for future rescues. My judgement is particularly needed when training a new operative. I need to know that he has the correct procedures drilled into him so that he knows what to do in any given moment. If it all goes to hell then I have to know that everyone under my command knows what they're doing- I won't have the time to worry about them, I might not be able to. We do a dangerous job, Gordo, and I need you to be at your best. We've been working on drilling the right mind set into Alan for over a year now and I obviously pushed him too fast, too quickly."

"I'm sure he doesn't see it that way." Gordon said, now thoughtful.

"No, he's always been quite full of himself."

"I still don't think it's right." Gordon said, dumping his banana peel in the trash. "Dad's spent the last 20 years teaching Alan to think before he acts, I don't know how he was expecting you to master it in just one year."

"I do have the added incentive of death." Scott pointed out.

"That is true but I don't think that means anything to Alan. Kid thinks he's invincible. Even after his two storey fall."

"He'll learn quick enough and you'll wish he never had."

They fell into a comfortable silence then as Scott finished his coffee and Gordon ate another banana.

"What are you going to do now? Go back to sleep?" Scott asked.

"Are you? That's if you even went to bed in the first place."

"You wound me, I went to bed."

"But you didn't sleep." Gordon pointed out.

Scott raised an eyebrow at him, "I don't think I've ever seen you in smother hen mode."

"I am capable." Gordon said, nonchalantly plucking a green apple from the fruit basket and shining it against the chest of his pyjama top. "I just never really get a chance to exhibit my skills. Someone older and much better at than I am usually beats me to the punch. Now, are you going to bed or not?"

Scott put a hand on his shoulder, "learning you are, young padawan. Skilled in all the ways of the master, soon you will be."

Gordon made a face, "remind me to thank Virgil when I see him."

"Will do."

Gordon made to leave and, on a rarely felt impulse, Scott pulled his second youngest brother into a hug. He was rewarded with Gordon pulling him close and holding him for a long moment.

Scott marvelled at the muscles he felt under his brother's shirt and the broadest of his shoulders and tried to reconcile the image he held of his kid brother in his head and the young man in his arms.

Gordon pulled away, "I don't like the way Dad spoke to you but I trust you to stand up for yourself. Just remember, you're our brother not our keeper."

Gordon left the, disappearing out onto the patio and into the bright morning sunlight. Scott watched him go with a sigh before rinsing his mug and placing it on the drying rack.

His hands were steady once more.

* * *

Scott sat as still as a statue as his Dad put a pillow over his crossed legs and stuffed another between him and the arm of the chair. His Dad was smiling wider than Scott could ever remember seeing him and Scott couldn't help but smile, too, even if the butterflies in his tummy were making him feel like he was going to be sick.

"Baby now?" Scott asked when his Dad straightened up, seemingly satisfied with what he had done.

"Yes, you can hold the baby now." His Dad told him, returning to the bed and taking the bundle of blankets Scott knew to hold his baby brother from his mother's tired arms.

His Dad was careful as he rested the baby in Scott's grasp, being supported more by the pillows than Scott's tiny arms, though Scott didn't realise this until many years later when looking at old photographs.

"Meet Virgil." His Dad said, planting a kiss on Scott's head before moving back to stand by the bed. "Your new baby brother."

"Virgil is a silly name." Scott declared, being careful to use full sentences. His Mom liked it when he did that.

"Well, it's the one he's has." His Mom replied. "He will thank his Daddy for that when he's old enough."

"That and his stunning good looks." His Dad grinned.

"With any luck-."

Scott cut his Mother off, scowling up at his parents, "you said little baby!"

Virgil was too big for him to cradle in his arms like he had seen his Mummy and Daddy do and his head was heavy on Scott's arm.

"He is little," his Dad tried to soothe him. "He's only a little bit bigger than you were when you were born and you know how much you've grown."

Scott wasn't satisfied with that but then his Dad was kneeling in front of him, a hand on the baby's head and the other on Scott's shoulder, "you might not think he's small now but in time you'll come to see that. He's your little brother and it's your job to protect him and keep him safe. He's going to look up to you, Scott, and he's going to need you to help him grow up to be big and strong like you are. Do you think you can do that, buddy?"

"Jeff!" His Mother hissed. "He is two years old- how dare you place that kind of pressure-."

There was more but Scott wasn't listening. He looked down at Virgil's pink face and his hands that clutched at the blankets he was swaddled in and he saw how much smaller they were than his. Maybe his Daddy was right, maybe Virgil was little after all. His little brother.

"I can do that, Daddy." He promised.

* * *

He ended up going to be bed after his talk with Gordon and managed to get a good few hours of sleep despite all the coffee he had drunk.

After showering and changing into some fresh clothes he went into his Father's office, relieved to find the older man wasn't there, and sank into his chair.

With the flick of a couple of switches, he opened a comms line to Thunderbird Five. John was slower than usual at picking up and looked flushed and unkempt when he did so.

Scott looked at his watch, "just finishing up on the treadmill?"

"What? Oh, yeah- running behind after last night. I wasn't expecting a call."

"How is everything looking?"

"The Italian authorities are just finishing up. Looks like there's going to be a lot of rebuilding over the next couple of months but it's a lot better than it could have been. They're grateful."

"And everywhere else?"

"Fairly quiet, I think we may be in for an uneventful few days barring any manmade."

"I'll take whatever we can get. I think we're all going to need a couple of days to get over that one."

"A broken arm is going to take longer than a couple of days to get over." John said, his voice unusually sharp.

Scott was surprised, "I know, I'm sorry, Johnny."

"I'd already worked it out, you know, so you could have spared yourself the trauma."

"John, look-," Scott was lost for words. His middle brother was usually the least volatile of them all.

"What's another month, huh? It's not like I haven't done three month rotations before. I can't-."

But Scott was no longer paying any attention. The door to his Father's office had banged open shortly after John had started speaking and Virgil had stormed in, his face like thunder. Gordon and Alan, Scott could understand, but both John and Virgil on the same day? He hadn't seen the like since their teenage years.

"Virge-." Scott started but his second brother was already at the desk.

Without even seeming to pause for thought, Virgil cut the link to Thunderbird Five and turned to his eldest brother, "did you know?"

"Did I know what?" Scott snapped back, horrified.

"That Dad's still planning on sending you to that meeting in New York on Tuesday even though he's grounded the rest of us."

Scott's stomach dropped. He had completely forgotten about the meeting.

"What? No, of course I didn't know. I haven't spoken to him since yesterday."

"What makes you so special that you get to leave when all the rest of us are stuck here? Daddy's golden boy."

"That's not fair."

"So what?" It's not fair that it's okay for you to go running off to New York for a couple of days and I have to cancel my trip. I've had this planned for weeks!" Virgil threw his hands up in the air before bringing them down with a band on their Father's desk. "I can't believe this."

"Look, I'll talk to Dad, see if I can get him to change his mind." Scott tried.

"Like I haven't tried that?" Virgil snapped.

"Well, maybe I'll try to reason with him instead of exploding in his face."

"Fuck you, Scott." Virgil spat before turning on his heel and storming off.

Scott let out a long breath and ran a hand through his hair. Just what had Dad been thinking? Virgil had been trip for weeks on end. He could understand his Dad making him cancel it but couldn't fathom why on earth he'd then make Scott go to New York.

He found his Father leaving the med bay.

"Can we talk?" Scott asked, falling into step as his Father continued his journey back to the main body of the house.

"What's there to talk about?"

"This meeting in New York- can't I cancel?"

Jeff sighed, "I'm guessing you've spoken to Virgil."

Scott shrugged, "I wouldn't say we spoke."

"That boy needs to get a better grip on his temper."

"Or maybe you need to stop pushing me to do things I don't want to do and let Virgil go on his damn trip."

Jeff stopped his ascent up the stairs and turned to look down at his eldest son. Scott met his eye, defiantly.

"I'd choose my words carefully if I were you, boy." His Father warned.

Scott forced himself to stand straighter even as his cheeks burned red. His Father always knew how to make him feel two foot tall.

"I know what you want from me." Scott told him. "And I know how you expect me to act but I don't want those things. Doing stuff for the Company, yeah, that's fine- one of use needs to do it and I don't think any of the others are that interested. I can deal with that, I even enjoy it. But that other stuff…" Scott let himself trail off.

"You're 30 years old, Scott. When I was your age I had been married to your Mom for years and I had you and Virgil-."

"So what?" Scott interrupted. "I am not you, no matter how much you want me to be. Just because getting married and having kids made you happy doesn't mean it will make me happy, too. I don't want a wife and I definitely don't want kids."

His Father was silent for a long moment before flushing, "you're not- are you… Are you gay?"

"Would it matter if I were?" Scott asked, thinking of one brother in particular, his whole body tense.

"Of course not, you're my son." Jeff answered with only the smallest of pauses.

Scott felt himself relax somewhat, "that's good. I'm not but it's reassuring to know it doesn't matter. We are all your sons and you need to start treating us equally instead of putting one of us ahead of the others."

"So you're saying I should let Virgil go." It came out as a statement rather than a question and Scott knew his father was coming around. The tension between them seemed to vanish.

"Pretty much." Scott shrugged and then hesitated before saying, "maybe the reason Virgil wants to go on this trip of his is the exact same reason you want me to go."

A slow smile spread across his Father's face, "a girl?"

Scott held up his hands and assumed and innocent expression, "you didn't hear it from me."

Inwardly, he curse his Father. How could he have not noticed? Virgil had been disappearing for a few days every couple of months for the last couple of years, always returning in a much better mood than when he left. He had never said anything to Scott about what he did on his trips or who he saw which is what had given the whole thing away to Scott in the first place. Virgil didn't keep any secrets from Scott, only ones he thought his older brother would disapprove of. Scott doubted he could disapprove of anyone who made his brother happy but he had let Virgil keep his secret.

His Father resumed his journey up the stairs and Scott followed closely behind, "he'll still need to go to that meeting in New York. I promised a Tracy."

"I'll let him know."

They paused when they reached the entrance to the main body of the house as Jeff scanned them in.

"So who was she? The daughter of one of your NASA buddies?" Scott asked.

"Airforce." His Dad replied. "I'm going to have to cancel that dinner reservation."

"Was it somewhere good?"

"Jean-Georges."

Scott let out a slow whistle, "nice. Must have been a good friend."

"Oh, you know. He saved my life a few times, I saved his a few more. The usual." Jeff held the door open for Scott to step through as he spoke. "I don't suppose your brother would make use of it? It'd be a shame to have to cancel."

"I think I can talk him round to it." Scott told him.

"See that you do."

Scott watched his Father go, only fully relaxing once the older man disappeared from sight.

* * *

Scott was about ready to murder someone.

And, once he had done that, he had another three brothers on his list.

Nanny Peters was in New Jersey caring for her sick mother and their Father… Well, their Father should have been home hours ago.

Scott had been the last one back to their penthouse apartment, a combination of soccer practice running late and bad traffic meant he wasn't home until nearly six. He had expected his Father to be home already and was none too pleased to find the kids had been left to run riot. Still, he had given his Father the benefit of the doubt and set about trying to curb the chaos that had been wreaked through his brothers being left without any adult supervision.

The whole apartment was a mess. There was toothpaste and whipped cream on the walls and smeared on the furniture, cookies and chips had been trodden into the carpet and Gordon's favourite sing along programme was playing at full volume on the large flat screen in the lounge.

Gordon and his shadow were sat inches away from the TV screen- toothpaste all over their small faces, whipped cream in their hair and bedsheets tied around their necks like capes- and were belting out the words to familiar songs at the top of their lungs.

"Gordon, Alan!" Scott roared, making both his youngest brothers jump and turn to look at him with guilty eyes. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

Scott knew he shouldn't curse in front of the kids but he was beyond caring at that point. He was tired and hungry and had way too much homework to do to be dealing with the mess the terrible two had created.

He dragged the two of them by their capes into the family bathroom, ignoring Gordon's protests and Alan's tears, "wash all that crap off your face. I can't believe you've done this- what were you thinking? Do you know how angry Dad is going to be when he sees the mess you've made?"

At that Gordon started crying, too, but it did nothing to appease Scott's fury.

After shoving washcloths into both his brothers' hands he stuck his head out of the bathroom and hollered, "Virgil! Get here now!"

Virgil's door banged open and the thirteen year old peered out. His eyes widened at the smiley face drawn with toothpaste on the door opposite, "shit."

"Yes, shit." Scott said, his voice shaking with anger. "Where have you been in all this? Hiding away in your room as usual?"

"Don't blame me- I didn't do this!" Virgil said. "I thought Dad would be home soon after we got back."

"So you went into your room and left these two to run riot?" Scott accused.

"Dad was meant to be home!" Virgil shouted.

"Did you try calling him?" Scott asked. "Or did that thought not cross your mind?"

"I thought he'd only be 10 minutes. He's not been later than that all week- how was I supposed to know today was any different?"

Scott let out a long sigh and dug his cell out of his pocket. There were no missed calls or messages from their Dad to offer an explanation.

"Are you two done?" Scott asked Gordon and Alan. He knew that they could really do with having a bath but Scott would rather drive off a cliff than get involved in Gordon and Alan's bath time. "I can still see some toothpaste on your forehead, Alan."

Alan shot Scott a dirty look before scrubbing at his forehead, his tears over for now save the occasional sniffle.

"Don't look at me like that, you little brat." Scott snapped. "I am not in the mood for any attitude from you."

Scott dialled their Father's cell as he first inspected Alan's and then Gordon's face. It went through to voicemail after a minute or two and Scott declined to leave a message. He tried his Dad's office only to have his PA answer.

"In a meeting?" Scott asked. "He was meant to have been home hours ago. Do you know when he's going to be out? No, everything is fine, Mrs Lewandowski, we were just worried. Please can you tell Father to call me when he's finished. Thank you. Bye."

A new surge of anger bubbled in the pit of Scott's stomach and he forced himself to calm down. Letting out a long breath, he noticed the toothpaste drawing on the mirror for the first time, "what's with all the smiley faces?"

"Miss Smith said that smiling faces make a happy family." Gordon said between hiccups. His words had a slightly monotonous tone to them, like he was repeating words he'd heard a number of times.

"And you just wanted everyone to be happy?" Scott asked, his anger at his brothers draining away.

Sensing an out, Gordon nodded.

Scott smiled, "and what about the capes and whipped cream?"

"We were dressing up?" Gordon offered, Alan nodding vigorously at his side.

Scott laughed.

All anger forgotten, he pulled his youngest brothers into a quick hug, "I'm sorry for shouting. How about we leave all these smiley faces up for Dad to see and order some pizza for dinner?"

Virgil perked up, "pizza?"

"So much you're going to puke." Scott promised.

They retrieved John from his room where he had been continuing on his quest to teach himself Russian, oblivious to the drama that had had been going on outside his door, and Scott took the for-emergencies-only credit card from their Father's study.

They sat around the big table in the dining room when the pizza arrived and they ate and ate until Gordon was in fact sick.

They were halfway through bath time (Scott having conceded to the fact that he couldn't dodge that particular bullet but finding it a lot easier than expected due to the terrible two's exhaustion from their earlier exploits and help from Virgil and John) when their Father arrived home.

As Scott had expected, he flipped at the sight of the apartment.

"Well, it wouldn't have happened if you had been home when you promised you would be." Scott had pointed out, fighting to keep his temper in check. "If you had called or left a message then I could have skipped soccer practice and gone home with the others."

"Virgil is old enough to-."

Scott cut his Dad off, "Virgil is 13 years old, you cannot expect him to be responsible for the kids. That isn't fair."

Jeff pursed his lips, "get the younger two to bed and then I expect the rest of you to get this place cleaned up. No arguments."

Alan was crying when Scott joined his brothers in the youngest two's joint bedroom. He was pleased to see that Gordon and Alan looked clean and were in their pyjamas.

"Is Daddy angry?" Alan asked.

"No, of course he isn't." Scott lied. "He liked the smiley faces very much."

"But, Scott-," John started before Virgil yanked him out of the room.

Scott made short work of putting the brats to bed before joining his brothers in the hallway.

John looked anxious as he spoke, "but, Scotty, I heard Dad yelling. He only yells when he's angry. You lied."

John was the smartest kid Scott knew, already looking to graduate from high school this coming summer at the tender age of 10, but emotionally he was lagging behind. Scott couldn't remember if he had been like that before their Mother's death or, like his bad leg, it was a result of the accident that had taken her life.

"You're right, John. Dad is angry but it's nothing that you or the kids need to worry about." Scott told him, knowing it was important to tell John that he'd read the signals right but not wanting him to be concerned at their Father's foul mood. He often forgot they were still kids. "I'll sort Dad out. Don't you worry."

* * *

"Three days." Scott said, sticking his head through the door to Virgil's room. "And you've got to go to that meeting at head office."

Virgil looked up from the book he was reading, a frown marring his features, "I was supposed to be going to Hawaii. For a week."

Scott moved further into the room and leaned against the wall opposite the bed where Virgil was currently sprawled.

They locked eyes and Scott raised an eyebrow.

The moment seemed to last an age before Virgil let out a puff of air and looked away, "fine."

"There's a table reserved at Jean-Georges."

Virgil seemed to be appeased with that.

"I hope she's worth it." Scott said and made to leave.

"Scott!" Virgil called and then suddenly looked nervous. "Close the door, will you?"

Scott did as he was asked and took a seat on the edge of the bed when Virgil indicated for him to do so.

This was serious then.

"Are you going to ask her to marry you?" Scott asked.

"Worse." Virgil said. "I'm going to ask Dad if she can come stay with us for a couple of days."

Scott's mind went blank, "here?"

"No, in Kansas with Grandma. Of course here!" Virgil rolled over onto his back and dropped his hands over his eyes in frustration. "You don't think it's a good idea, do you?"

Scott weighed his words carefully, knowing that whatever he was going to say next was going to have a huge impact on his brother- perhaps even greater than whatever their Father was going to say and he was the one who called the shots.

"Do you love her?" Scott asked.

"Of course." Virgil answered in a heartbeat, his honey coloured eyes suddenly boring into Scott's.

"Then talk to Dad about it and actually talk to him, Virgil- he's not going to magically change his mind if you shout at him." Scott said.

Virgil was generally one of Scott's more placid brothers but was notorious for losing his temper whenever he butted head with their Father which, admittedly, wasn't very often.

"What's the trick?" Virgil asked. "How do you get him to listen to you? He makes me feel like I'm 10 years old again and he's caught me with my hand in the cookie jar."

Scott smiled. That was how their Dad made him feel, too.

"Do you want to know the secret?" Scott asked and Virgil nodded. "Don't let him get to you. There's no one in this world that makes me feel smaller than that man does but if you grin and bear it without losing your temper then he might just listen to you."

"What an asshole."

Scott nodded but didn't add anything. He knew Virgil was speaking out of anger but he knew he also had a valid point.

"Do you think he does it on purpose? Scratch that, he has to." Virgil sighed and after a moment's pause asked, "why do we do it, Scotty? Why do we stick around."

"For the lives we save." Scott answered, simply.

"But not for him."

Scott didn't say anything.

Despite the way his Father could make him feel, Scott still loved him and he knew Virgil did, too. Their Father loved them in his own way, of course he did. But it wasn't as simple as that. They didn't just stay for the fear of risking their Father's love. There was more to it than that.

Scott stayed for his brothers. It was as simple as that.

But, then, it wasn't as simple as that at all.

He didn't do it for his Mother, not like he was sure the younger ones did. He had been 11 when she had died and old enough to know that she probably wouldn't have appreciated the gesture. Gordon and Alan had been babies when it happened and didn't know any better. He wasn't sure about John. The accident had happened the month before his sixth birthday and, with his memory, Scott was sure he remembered their Mother for the woman she was and not the saint their Father made her out to be but it was hard to tell with him. It was rare that he spoke of their Mother at all.

Virgil remembered their Mother almost as well as Scott did. They had spoken about her a lot growing up, often in secret, away from their grieving Father and not in front of younger brothers who had been too young to know what they had missed.

That was why he did it. Not because it would have been what their Mother wanted but because his brothers had grown up without their Mother. He wanted to stop other children growing up without their Mother, too, if he could help it. It hadn't been fair that they'd been left with a man too wrapped up in his own guilt and grief to really care for his sons in their formative years.

Scott changed the subject, "so, what's her name then?"

"Anna."

"Anna? The same Anna you dated at college?" Scott was surprised. He thought they had broken it off years ago.

Virgil nodded, "she's a writer now. Historical fiction."

"I can see that." Scott's stomach rumbled and he looked at his watch. It was nearly one- lunchtime. "Are you coming to get something to eat?"

"Some of us were up at a decent time and had breakfast." Virgil said, pointedly, to which Scott just responded with a look. "I've got to give Anna a call and arrange New York first. I'll be through after that- 15 minutes tops."

Scott was at the door when he suddenly remembered, "give John a call and apologise, yeah? That was a shitty move, Virge."

Virgil nodded as he started flicking through his phone and Scott let himself out.

After a light lunch of grilled cheese and chips, Scott retreated to his study and went through his Tracy Industries emails. There were a number of emails from various CEOs and heads of departments but few things really caught his interest. He was lucky that, at this stage, his Father let him pick and choose his projects within the company and otherwise let him be involved at only a very high level. He was always copied into the regional monthly performance reports and he took his time over the ones he had been sent the month previously. There was some concern over profit margins in Asia but for the most part he was happy. They had only fully expanded into Asia three years ago so there was bound to be a few teething problems as efficiencies were properly standardised. If they were still having the same problems in 12 months then he'd start to worry. As it was he was happy with where they were.

He put in a few calls to his project managers and got caught up on all the ins and outs the last couple of weeks had brought. By the time he was finished it was nearly time for dinner.

As his company laptop shut down, he leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. It echoed around the empty walls of his study and he was glad for the quiet. This room was his space and was strictly out of bounds for younger siblings. It was a rarely used room, barely decorated, the walls a cool and impersonal blue and the desk the same as the thousands used in Tracy Industries offices worldwide, but it was his. He came here when he didn't want to be disturbed. They all had their own areas like this dotted around the island: a room overlooking the pool and the beach for Virgil to paint; a small hut behind the house and further up the rocks for John to use at night to look at his stars; a small lounge just off the kitchen for Gordon to relax and play computer games when not in the pool; and a garage for Alan at the head of the runway for Alan to tinker with his latest project. His brothers were more open about their spaces but they were more private about them than their bedrooms. Scott supposed that that was a hangover from their childhoods when they had constantly been in and out of each other's rooms.

Scott liked his study. He knew his brothers would laugh at him but he didn't mind too much. There wasn't much to it: a small bookcase half filled with specs for Tracy Industries craft, a desk and a chair. The desk itself was bare except for his company laptop, a pot of pens and two picture frames. It was hugely old fashioned to have actual printed photos but his Mother had always made sure the walls of their home were plastered with them and he guessed he had gotten the habit from her. The photos on his desk were his favourite out of the hundreds that had been taken throughout his lifetime. The first was a family portrait taken the year before John was born, shortly after Virgil's second birthday, and his favourite photo of his Mother. Holding Virgil on her lap, she was smiling wider than Scott ever remembered her doing away from the camera and, unlike in later years, it didn't seem forced. She looked like any other mother with young children: tired but proud and so in love with her children. Her arm was wrapped around Virgil's waist, his head tucked under her chin, but her eyes were on Scott as he beamed into the camera. He was stood between both parents with his Dad's arm curled around his waist. He had never wanted to rewind time- and he still didn't- but he wished he could muster the same smile as his four year old self.

The second photo, the one on the right, was his favourite of the two.

It was from his graduation from the Airforce academy. He couldn't remember who had taken it but it hadn't been his Father, that was for certain, as he had spent most of the day schmoozing with his old buddies. Perhaps it had been Grandma. He didn't know, it didn't really matter. They all looked happy, laughing at some joke of Gordon's while the red-head grinned back, his cheeks flushed pink but obviously pleased with himself. Scott's arm was slung over Alan's shoulder and Virgil's hand was on Gordon's shoulder. They looked normal, like any set of brothers the world over.

It was rare that they were all together anymore with one of them- more often than not John- manning Thunderbird Five. The pressure of what they did had also formed cracks in their relationship and Scott regretted that more than anything else about International Rescue.

He went down to dinner when Gordon knocked on his door and he suffered Alan and Tin-Tin's flirting along with the rest of the family. Scott thought Gordon might have had a point about his youngest brother planning his accident. He felt guilty for even thinking such a thing and he tried not to dwell on the idea.

The evening passed quickly and uneventfully as did the days that followed. Scott caught up with his sleep, wrote his mission report and kept up with his company emails. In the mornings he swam with Gordon and the evenings he jogged on the beach with Virgil. Alan avoided him, spending as much time with Tin-Tin as he could, and Scott didn't mind. He was patient, he could wait until circumstance threw them together.

Virgil's trip to New York came and went without any problems. Two weeks passed and Scott grew bored.

He wasn't built for this quiet.

He persevered.

* * *

The air was sweltering.

Sweat dripped down his neck and was absorbed into his already soaked t-shirt. His eyes scanned the cavern below as the sun beat down on his back relentlessly and the rock and sand were warm under his belly. There were enemy soldiers down there, maybe even the same ones that had shot him down, and Scott knew the slightest movement could catch the attention of one of the men below: the glint of his watch in the or the shifting of stones magnified in the open space below.

"Steady, Tracy." His wingman whispered as Scott shifted in position. "Steady."

"I don't know if I can go on like this much longer." Scott confessed and, though his body probably couldn't spare the moisture, he was suddenly on the verge of tears.

Dan Miller was a good man. Strong and steady but surprisingly tender behind an imposing façade. He was nearly a decade older than Scott and treated him more like a brother than a fellow soldier.

"Hold yourself together, kid." Miller murmured and risked nudging Scott's shoulder with his own. "Just think of what's waiting for you at home."

Scott knew Miller was thinking of his wife and baby son. Scott thought of his brothers.

"Now take some deep breaths."

Scott did as he was told. The minutes crept by.

"You're doing good, kid." Miller told him.

An hour ticked by before the enemy soldiers disappeared from sight and hearing.

"Keep on breathing."

It was another three days before they were rescued.

* * *

On a whim, he called John.

He didn't do it as often as he liked. John could be prickly about people intruding on his personal space. Scott often got the impression that their Father's nightly check-ins were too much.

This time, though, John looked pleased to see him.

Bypassing any greeting, Scott frowned, "you look tired."

John rolled his eyes and made a show of looking at his watch, "I think you've broken your own impressive record."

"Oh, ha ha." Scott returned, not quite ready to let John off, "what's been keeping you up? Anything I should be aware of?"

"Not all of us are part-timers." John reminded him, quickly, then he softened. "I've been tracking a typhoon off the Sri Lankan coast. It's died down the closer it's gotten to land, it shouldn't be giving anyone any serious problems."

"Anything else?"

John shook his head, "it's been fairly quiet."

"It's died down down here, too." Scott told him. "Virgil has been insufferable since he got back from his trip. He's been positively chirpy."

"Where did he go?"

"Didn't he call you?" Scott asked with a frown. "I told him to get back to you and apologise for cutting you off."

"No, I haven't heard from any of you since then. Except Dad, of course, and that's only business."

Scott felt guilty, "shit, I'm sorry. I should have called you earlier."

"What makes you think I wanted to talk?" John gazed at something off screen. "I know where the comms buttons are."

"But do you know how to use them?" Scott asked and he knew he was on shaky ground. John was fantastic at listening to others and helping them with their problems but could be viciously tight lipped about his own.

John snorted, "I'm not an idiot."

"I'm not saying that you are. It's just that two and a half months is a long time to spend up there." Scott said as diplomatically as he could. "No one is going to think any less of you if you call home every now and then."

"But I don't want to call home, I want to _be _home- do you see my problem?" John still wasn't looking at him. "I had things I needed to do."

"Just a couple more weeks, Johnny. It wasn't a bad break and Alan's spending some time in the hyperbaric chamber every day." Scott assured him. "It won't be long."

Scott was surprised how miserable his middle brother looked. Something but have been really bothering him for him to be so open.

"So tell me about Virgil's trip."

Scott took the opportunity to step onto firmer ground.

Once Scott had passed on the few details he knew, John gave him a bright smile, "$100 says they'll be engaged before the end of the year."

"Dad's got to let her onto the island first." Scott reminded him. "Besides, don't you think it's all a bit soon?"

John shrugged, "they've been dating since college. I think the only person that qualifies as too soon for is you."

Scott gave him a look and John answered it with a small smile. He understood better than any of their brothers Scott's unwillingness to marry and start a family.

They chatted for a while longer after that, conversation turning to more menial topics, before Scott said his goodbyes. He wandered into the empty kitchen and poured himself a glass of juice. He leaned back against the counter and his glass as he mulled over his conversation with John.

It was clear he was going to have to talk to their Father about getting Alan to go up early and relieve John. It wasn't fair to keep him trapped up there for so long. A potential three months was too long to be away in space. Especially as John had cut his last visit home short to allow Alan the chance to go to Paris fashion week with Tin-Tin and he had covered Alan's previous rotation so he and Tin-Tin could go on vacation to the Bahamas. Alan definitely owed John a few favours and even if it was only a week earlier than planned that he could get John down it was better than nothing.

Working up the determination to go speak to their Father, Scott was interrupted from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps on the tile of the kitchen floor. Alan.

The youngest Tracy looked like a deer caught in the headlights, pausing momentarily by the doorway before entering the kitchen.

That reaction was enough in itself to bring Gordon's theory to the forefront of his mind once again. He sighed and set his glass down on the side.

"Do you want some juice?" Scott asked, moving to the fridge.

"Bottle of water." Alan answered and Scott grabbed a new bottle from the fridge. He tossed it in Alan's direction and he caught it easily despite his cast. "Thanks, Scott."

"How are your sessions in the chamber going?" Scott asked.

"Good." Alan replied. "Another couple of weeks and I'll be as good as new."

"Just in time for Tin-Tin to go back to school, huh? It's nice how that's worked out."

"Fate moves in mysterious ways." Alan agreed, giving Scott an innocent smile.

It was then Scott knew. Disappointment welled in his chest like nothing he had felt before and made his breath hitch. He had never felt so let down by one of his siblings and the depth of the betrayal hurt.

"Oh, Alan." Scott said and he couldn't bring himself to look at his youngest brother. "I trusted you."

Alan became immediately defensive, "what are you trying to imply? That I hurt myself on purpose?"

"Well, didn't you?" Scott looked up but refused to meet Alan's gaze. "Just tell me the truth."

"You promise you won't get mad?" Alan asked and Scott could have laughed. It was such a childish question, one that made of Scott think of the hundreds of times he had heard it before: the earnest voices, the wide, imploring eyes. Maybe Alan hadn't grown up as much as Scott thought he had.

"I promise."

"I didn't think I'd fall through two floors, okay? Just the one and I'd sprain my ankle or something and have an extra week before having to go up on Five. I didn't think I'd get hurt this bad."

"And what if it had been worse?" Scott asked. "What if you had hit your head or-."

"I made sure I was wearing my helmet." Alan cut him off, "I'm not a complete idiot."

"No," Scott agreed, "just a selfish one. Did you think of the consequences of your little stunt beyond what it meant for you? Did you think about John? Did you think about how he'd have to spend another month covering for you up on Five? What about Virgil and his trip- did you know Dad nearly made him cancel because your fall had left us short-handed? What about Gordon, what about me- do you realise how much of a fright you gave us?"

"You promised you wouldn't get mad." Alan said, sullenly.

"Am I shouting?" Scott asked, his voice perfectly level.

"No."

"Then I'm not mad. I'm disappointed in you, Alan. I didn't think you could be so selfish." Scott said and it was only half true. He _was _angry. He felt like an idiot for ever having thought Alan was ready to become a full time member of International Rescue.

"I needed some more time on the island." Alan told him, words spilling from his mouth. "I had asked John but he said no and I knew none of _you_ would cover for me up on Five. I didn't have a choice! I had to find some way to stay earthside-."

"Why? What was so important?" Scott asked.

Alan went red. Suddenly, he found the floor very interesting.

"Well?" Scott prompted, resisting the urge to cross his arms and tap his foot.

"Tin-Tin's pregnant."

Whatever Scott had been expecting, it wasn't that, "what?"

"You heard me." Alan said, moving to sit on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. "What am I going to do, Scott?"

"Jesus Christ." Scott rubbed a hand over his face. "Jesus fucking Christ, Alan."

"What am I going to do?" Alan repeated.

"You are not going to tell Dad about this, that's for sure." Scott told him before snapping, "how could you have been so stupid? Didn't any of Dad's talks sink into that brain of yours?"

"Of course they did! I-." But Alan was cut off by the alarm and Scott was glad. He needed some time to think about this and get his head into a place where he'd be able to help rather than just get angry.

He jabbed a finger into Alan's shoulder as he went passed and hissed, "this isn't over."

* * *

Scott was hungry.

It was meant to be dinnertime but his Mommy and Daddy hadn't left their bedroom since Daddy had gotten home from work. They were arguing. Scott could hear their raised voices through the walls.

"Scotty." Virgil pulled on the sleeve of his jumper, brown eyes wide. "I'm hungy."

"I know, I'm hungry, too."

"Ask Mommy if we can have crackers."

Scott shook his head, "too close to dinner."

"When dinner?" Virgil asked. "Ask Mommy."

Scott caved after a little more complaining for Virgil and he made his little brother promise to stay in the lounge while Scott went to talk to their parents. He didn't want Virgil to hear them so angry.

He could make out words the closer he got to the end of the hall where all the bedrooms were. The door to his parents' room was ajar and his Father's suited form blocked Scott from seeing any further into the room. A swear from his Mommy had him stopping dead in his tracks and stifling a gasp.

"You're the one who wanted the children in the first place!" He could hear his Mommy continue. "I didn't fucking want them. Shit, I don't even know what to do with them now I've got them. And now this- this thing!"

"Lucy, you're upset, you don't know what you're saying-.

"Fuck you, you bastard, you're the one that did this to me. I never wanted to be a mum, I fucking hate children…"

There was more but it was all so terrible that it made Scott's chest hurt and he didn't want to hear anymore. His Mommy hated him. He didn't understand.

He was crying when he reached the lounge. Virgil, ever the comforter, immediately tried to wipe Scott's tears away with his pudgy hands.

"Don't cry, Scotty." He whispered, on the verge of tears himself. "Don't cry."

"We have to run away." Scott told him, solemnly. "Mommy doesn't want us and we've got to run away."

Virgil didn't understand but he followed Scott's lead. They pulled on the snowboots their Mommy had bought them the day before in preparation for the unseasonably cold weather due over the next couple of weeks and wrapped up in their thickest coats and hats and scarves and mittens. Scott packed his bookbag full of crackers and cookies and juice boxes and then they were on their way.

They took the elevator down to the ground floor and snuck passed the doorman and out into the cold night. Scott made sure to keep a hold of Virgil's hand as they walked the block to the park Daddy liked to take them to on a Sunday morning.

The playground was empty and they crawled into the big metal tunnel that Virgil liked to hide in when Daddy told them it was time to go home. They ate and drank and huddled together for warmth.

"How long do we hafta stay here?" Virgil asked.

"I don't know." Scott replied. "Maybe forever. We can't go home."

Virgil started to cry.

Scott wrapped his arms around his little brother's shoulders and nuzzled his cold nose into the warmth of Virgil's neck. He wasn't angry at Virgil for crying this time. He wanted to cry, too.

Virgil fell asleep after a while. Scott tried to stay awake, knowing someone would have to keep guard in case any nasty raccoons wanted to take off with the rest of their cookies, but Virgil was warm and cushy. He fell asleep.

Scott was frozen stiff when he next awoke. Virgil was awake in his arms, brown eyes gazing out of the end the tunnel.

"Did you hear that, Scotty?" Virgil asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

Scott shook his head and listened hard. He couldn't hear anything beyond the sound of their breathing. And then-.

"It's Mommy." Virgil whispered, excitedly. "She came to find us!"

Scott shook his head. Their Mommy wouldn't come looking for them. He had heard her tell Daddy that she didn't want them.

But the voice came again, louder and clearer, and Scott recognised it as his Mommy's. She sounded sad. He didn't understand.

"Stay quiet." Scott instructed his brother.

Virgil did as he was told.

They sat as still as statues as they heard their Mommy get closer and closer. The could see the beam of a flashlight bouncing around the playground and then suddenly it was in their faces.

"Oh, God, boys." Her voice was full of relief and shook with barely retrained tears but Scott wasn't moved. The something deep in his chest still hurt. "What are you doing in there? You scared the living daylights out of my and your Dad running off like that. Come here."

"No." Scott answered even as Virgil squirmed in his arms.

"Don't be silly. It's freezing out here." She sunk to her knees and edged part way into the tunnel but was too big to get very far. "Let's go home and have a nice cup of hot chocolate to warm ourselves up."

"No." Scott repeated. "Where's Daddy?"

"Scott, baby, what's wrong?"

Scott felt his bottom lip wobble. His Mommy sounded just the same as she usually did and not at all like the angry lady he had heard before they had run away. He was confused.

"Please, Scott, talk to me." She sounded so earnest and Scott was really cold. He just wanted her to hug him and kiss him and make everything better but he was reluctant to give into the urge.

He let Virgil wiggle from his stiff arms and watched as he crawled along the tunnel and into their Mother's arms. She pulled him onto her lap and hugged and kissed him, then she started to cry.

"Oh, Virgil." She said between tears. "I thought I had lost you. My sweet, precious boy."

As he had done with Scott earlier, Virgil wiped away her tears, "Scotty said you didn't want us."

"What?"

"I heard you." Scott told her. "You swored a lot and you said you hated us and you didn't want us."

Virgil pushed away from their Mother even as she tried to pull him closer, her breaths now coming in heavy sobs.

Virgil, too, began to cry, "why d'ya hate us, Mommy?"

"I'm sorry." She gasped and Scott started to feel mean for making her cry. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it. I couldn't ever hate you, my brave boys. I love you so very much."

"I heard you." Scott said again.

"I know and I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean to say those things. I was upset with your Father and the baby in my tummy makes me very sad."

"Is the baby bad?" Scott asked. He didn't remember much from before Virgil was born- he had been very little, after all- but he thought his Mommy had been happy. Virgil was a good little brother, too, though he did cry a lot and take Scott's toys without asking. Maybe the baby had made his Mommy say those things?

"No, the baby isn't bad but it does bad things to Mummy. It makes her very sad and sometimes she says things she doesn't mean."

"I don't want baby." Virgil told her.

"I'm sorry." Mommy said. "It's too late to go back now."

Scott finally gave in and shuffled along the tunnel to him Mommy and Virgil. He still hurt and the hug his Mommy gave him didn't fill him with as much comfort as he has expected.

"You're frozen through, Scotty. Let's phone Daddy and tell him that I've found you and then we'll got home and get warm."

Scott and Virgil helped their Mother out of the tunnel and to her feet, Virgil eyeing the bump of her stomach with distrust. She called their Dad and he agreed to meet them at home.

The path through the park was icy and Scott giggled when first Virgil and then he slipped on the same section of path. A few minutes later, as they reached the park's entrance, their Mommy fell, too.

Scott laughed. She had looked like one of his cartoon characters when they slipped on something, only Mommy had landed on her front and she wasn't laughing. For a long while she didn't even move. Then, slowly, she pushed herself to her knees and let out a soft groan.

"Mommy?" Virgil asked.

She moved a hand to cradle the bump of her stomach, her face screwed up with pain and worry, and Scott moved to stand closer to her.

"Do you need help standing up?"

She shook her head, "get my phone out of my pocket and phone your Dad. I think I need to go to the hospital."


End file.
